Mr Nice Guy
by SewerAngel
Summary: Harley is heartbroken- she's been dumped (again), and this time her best-babe Ivy is determined to do something about it. Certain that her creep-detecting skills are superior, she takes it upon herself to find Harls a suitable suitor, whether she likes it or not. What could possibly go wrong? (switches back and forth between Joker and Harley POV's)
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note:** Hey kiddos!

I took a break from _1000 ways to die_ to write this lil fic (sorry not sorry). I felt like spending sometime with the clowns later on in their relationship, so technically this occurs in the same continuity as my other fics. This one is pretty much all finished, it just needs some house-keeping so I'll be posting chapters a lot more frequently than usual (granted those chapters are also a lot shorter than usual, and there's only about 3 of them).

Also, I'm going to include a little analysis of our main characters and their relationships. Obviously this ship gets a lot of hate which I think is quite unjustified- this is fiction. Liking fiction that depicts bad people and bad things doesn't make you a bad person, and it doesn't mean that you condone those things. One of my favourite movies is silence of the lambs, but I doubt any of you think that means I'm cool with cannibalism- its as simple as that!

Still though, I write about some disturbing things that I think can very easily be misconstrued- especially because I use a first person narrative and my characters are at best biased, and at worst they're liars. I'm a bisexual person whose been questioning their cis identity- obviously issues of gender and sexual equality are extremely important to me but here I am writing a heterosexual ship that a lot of people see as abusive and likely sexist. I'm not going to contest that many canon depictions of this pairing are abusive, but I am trying to write something a bit different, and I thought I would take the time to discuss my approach with you guys.

If you're interested in reading my little analysis, it will be in the notes at the bottom of this chapter. Otherwise, read on, enjoy, and let me know what you think!

WARNINGS: implied suicide attempt, violence, and probably other disturbing content as well. Oh also sexual themes (don't get too excited)

 **Mr. Nice Guy: Chapter 1**

 **Harley-March 3** **rd** **, 11:25 pm**

"This isn't the end of the world! You'll get over that creep eventually and you'll find someone new."

A violent gasp cuts my wail I lift my dripping face from her shoulder with an expression of scornful indignation.

"No I _won't_ Red!" My voice is shrill and panicked, and she cringes. "I ain't ever gonna find a man like him again-"

"That's a _good_ thing-"

"NO IT AIN'T!"

"Well you like girls too! You should-"

"IT AINT ABOUT HIS DICK, PAMELA!" I'm so furious I think I just _spat_ \- then I realize what I said and I falter with half a giggle. "Not that it ain't amazing, _god_ it's the most beautiful-"

"I don't need to know! Why the _fuck_ would you think I want to hear about his _pencil_ _dick_?"

"I dunno Red," I giggle again, whipping my nose to avoid an impending snot bubble. "but I ain't ever seen a pencil like _that_."

"WHAT DID I JUST SAY? For the love of _god_ Harley, _spare me_ \- I already have to deal with your fucking hysterics!"

"I ain't hysterical I'm _heartbroken_ \- I lost everything Red, he was my _everything_! Ever since he shoved me out that door every breath I take hurts, it _burns_ me. Every fucking _second_ I'm awake is excruciating, it's like _torture_ and when I fall asleep, I dream about him and the pain is so much worse when I wake up because it's _fresh_. It's like the world is rejecting me Red, he was my _purpose_! Fuck _men_ \- there's no other _person_ on earth like him! Oh my god, Pammy I'm so screwed, I can't survive this, I can't _do_ it again, I can't," I'm full on hyperventilating now, the room is spinning, _godamn it_ -

" _I CAN'T!_ " The tears burst out again and I can't fucking _breathe_ , I can't do this, _I can't-_

"Calm _down_ , Harley." Her voice is stone cold and she's shaking me by the arms but my vision is funnelling down and I'm spiralling, pulling away because I can't handle this, this is the fucking _end-_ " _HARLEY!"_ Her hand cracks against my cheek and I crash back into myself with a gasp. This time the misery drowns me completely and I slump against Ivy to let the tears roll through me. She sighs, and her body softens as she wraps her arms around me to pet my hair.

"Ok, _shhhh…._ You're ok, baby, I've got you."

For some reason, Ivy's affection makes my heart clench, and my next sob is particularly forceful. I give in to the desolation and Ivy holds me the whole time as I shake and cry like a child, like a _junkie_. She grips me tight, holds me together until the tears dry up and my eyes are puffy and raw. I don't feel better- not even a little, but I'm exhausted and dehydrated, so I don't say anything when Ivy stands and carries me to bed.

She sits me down and asks me something, but I can't bring myself to move or even respond because _he doesn't want me anymore_ , I'm done, I'm _nothing_ … I'm barely aware of Ivy's grumbles as she lifts my arms to help me undress and I don't bother to help as she wrestles me into my pajamas.

"If I leave, are you going to do something stupid?"

After last time I bet she'll have hidden anything sharp or poisonous, but she knows how creative I am and I know I can't lie to her. So I nod my head and she sighs, crawling under the covers beside me. I curl up against her because it's all I can do and I think I might start crying again- like clockwork the first parched tear falls and Ivy runs her fingers up and down on the back of my neck.

"I'm going to _fix_ this, Harley, I promise." Her tone sends a little jolt of panic through my chest, and its enough to bring my words back.

"Please don't try to kill him, Red." My voice is weak but the pathos is clear, and she grumbles.

"I'll find you someone else. I hate to have to say it but not _all_ human men are as bad as him." I don't have the energy to argue with her anymore, so I just focus on the feeling of her hands in my hair. "It doesn't have to be like _that-_ it can be _so_ much better! You deserve _better_."

" _No_."

"Yes you _do_ , don't be ridiculous. But think about it, how many serious relationships did you have before him? _None_. You told me last time- friends with benefits don't count. So how can you _know_ that he was the best? You haven't tried anybody else!"

" _Stop_."

"No! I can't keep seeing you like this Harley, it's _awful_." Her hands move from my hair to tilt my face up. "You're my _best_ friend." Her usually smooth voice wavers on my name and my eyes open on reflex to find her blinking away what looks to be a single tear. " _Please_ , you scare me when you're like this."

 _Holy shit-_ I've only ever seen her cry about plants! Usually ones that I'd accidentally killed, but _still_.

"M' _sorry!_ " Fuck, now she has me crying again and I feel even _worse_ for making Ivy sad by being sad, this is just a rabbit hole of _awful._ To my horror she shakes her head, and the dismissal is like a punch to the gut.

"Sorry doesn't _mean_ anything unless you _do_ something about it."

"I can't just stop loving him!"

"I'm not asking you to! But you _will_ get over him eventually; all I want right now is for you to promise you'll go on one date and give it an honest try."

"A date with you?"

" _No_ , don't be ridiculous. You know I don't subscribe to that kind of commercialized mating ritual- I want to _set_ you _up_."

"Nooo…" I groan, dropping my head down again.

" _Yes_." She growls. "If you can't promise to try, then I can't promise that he'll be breathing tomorrow."

 _Fuck_ she's _serious_ \- a frigid weight drops into my stomach, and a ragged sob rips from my throat.

"Pammy, _please,_ ok? I promise, I'm _sorry_ -" The tears overwhelm me again, and this time she pulls me closer, squeezing me so that I don't shake so much.

"That's ok, baby, all I needed was that promise and _you made it."_ She brushes a bit of hair back from my face and presses her lips to my forehead. " _That's all I needed."_

I can honestly say that I completely forgot about the promise after that night- I'd cried myself to sleep in her arms and then I'd woken up to spend the better part of the next month in bed. Ivy brought me food and forced me to clean myself, but all my favorite foods reminded me of _him,_ and the stab of loss unflinchingly rendered me nauseous. _Everything_ reminded me of him and the whole world felt like an assault. I wasn't getting _over_ him- I think I feel even more for him _,_ and the pain of having lost him forces me to hope that he might want me back someday.

I needed a light at the end of the tunnel; I'm afraid I might go blind in this relentless darkness.

So at some point around the seven-week mark, I decided that if he _did_ come for me I was going to be ready. My first outing was to Ivy's lab down the hall, and she was so surprised to see me vertical that she didn't even slap me for sitting on a chrysanthemum. For a while she let me "help" her- usually menial tasks like washing test tubes or turning soil- but that didn't last long because that shit is _boring_ and it turns out I'm not great at boring things. Who'd a' thunk it?

So yeah, I'm not allowed in the lab anymore.

That's ok though, I found other things to do. I got a fake I.D, joined a gym, pulled a couple small heists to get the blood pumping, and- ok I might have killed a _few_ people. But it wasn't my fault; it's just that I can't stand P.D.A! Honestly, it's practically public service- all that smoochy, lovey-dovey coupleness is fucking inconsiderate. Oh, and I made a hell of a lot of grilled cheese. I ate them too, with hot sauce, because the thought of him didn't hurt so much anymore. S _ure_ , I still had a good cry every night but his absence was softened by a growing faith in his return- if not today, then tomorrow. If not tomorrow then the next day- it didn't matter _when_ , only that I knew he would need me again, and I'd wait a thousand years if I had to. So yes, I've been feeling better not _fixed_ , but good enough to eat, smile, and wash my hair.

Maybe that's why Ivy thought today was a good day to spring the news on me.

"I found someone." Her tone is carefully controlled; artificially informal as she passes me a steaming mug of something that smells _truly_ awful- I swear her tea obsession will be the death of me.

"Good for you Red," I'm only half listening, pretending to sip the pungent tisane while I scan the funnies. "As a psychiatrist I gotta' say I just don't think it's very healthy to spend _all_ your time with plants. Well, and _me,_ but-"

"As a _psychiatrist_ you started a sexual relationship with your most volatile patient, forgive me if I don't take your opinion seriously." I take a peek in my periphery and I find her aggressively stirring her own cup of stink. "And I _meant_ that I found someone for _you_."

 _Right_.

"I ain't interested." I'm about to flip the page- Garfield just isn't doing it for me today, but Ivy rips the paper out of my hands before I have a chance. She's breathing through her nose in a huffy way, and the Ficus next to the couch is starting to squirm. _Geez_ I should probably try to take this seriously-

"Oh!" She throws her free hand up, expression incredulous, and the potted bamboo on the coffee table lurches threateningly. "Well in that case I'm no longer interested in keeping _my_ promise."

 _T_ hat is _not_ good, _very_ not good-

"Ivy-" Oh god she's putting down her mug, abandoned tea is a sign of impending violence. "What did I say?" I vault over the back of the couch to follow her from the living room, tripping over the creepers that snag around my ankles. "Red, _please_ , whatever it is-"

"You promised! That first night when you came back you _promised_ you would try, Harley!" She whirls back to face me, and the wisteria decorating the walls surges forward to wrap around my arms and immobilize me. "You make me feel like an _idiot_ sometimes, you know that?" She shakes her head, pretty features twisted in a revulsion that coils around my stomach. "I _believed_ you, I can't believe I-"

Oh shit, ok whatever I did, I need to backtrack _fast_.

"Pammy," I keep my eyes wide and my tone high and soft. "Please just tell me what I did and I'll fix it ok? Just _tell_ me."

"You don't remember." She crosses her arms but the local greenery stills substantially.

"No, I don't. And I really am sorry, I would never _knowingly_ break a promise to you, you know that right?" Ivy narrows her eyes, pursing her lips. "Just give me a chance, Pammy."

She stares at me for a long time before her shoulders slump and she raises a hand to wipe it over her eyes.

"You agreed to let me set you up with someone who _might_ actually come close to deserving you," _Well that doesn't sound like me-_ "and I agreed to let _him_ keep his big ugly head."

Harley you dumb bitch.

"Oh."

 _"_ _Yeah."_

 _Shit._

"I'd just like to point out that I was in a state of extreme distress that night-not at all in my right mind, so-"

"I'm not a Judge, Harley," She barks. "you can't claim insanity on this, and if you try to back out, I _swear_ to Gaia-"

"Ok!" I squeak. "Ok, I'm _sorry_ , I'll do it! I'd pinky promise you if my hands weren't tied."

Her eyes flick to my wrists like she's only just noticed the botanical bondage, and seconds later the vines loosen enough to release me. She doesn't say anything, but she does step forward to inspect the resulting scratches.

"I'm sorry I lost my temper." It's almost a growl but it puts a smile on my face.

"I'm sorry I almost broke my promise." Actually, I'm sorry I made a promise I really don't want to keep- but she doesn't need to know that. "So… who's the lucky guy?"

"Devin Delguissi- I've vetted him thoroughly."

 **Joker- March 4** **th** **, 2:53pm**

"Hey boss- um… I think you might want to see this."

When the Kid says that, I listen _-_ I don't often employ scrawny sixteen-year olds, but when I do, they're exceptionally good coders with a surprising affinity for nun-chucks. He's not grinning, which means it isn't a picture of batman tripping on his cape- I had that one printed and framed. _No_ , no, he looks _nervous_.

"Gimme the goods." I wave him over to my desk, and he hustles forward to set his laptop down in front of me… _Ok cupid?_ "What the f-"  
I register the photo on the page and I'm on my feet in a second. "Is that REAL?" _He looks like he's going to swallow his tongue._ "Oh don't _choke_ yourself- when was it made?"

"A few hours ago!" Squawks the Kid.

 _Ridiculous, Stupid little- Can't even think- how DARE she? I put her on HOLD! This is absolutely-_

"Oh, she's gonna _get_ it."

"Are you going after her? I can probably trace the-"

"No, I'm not going to _attack_ her- I'm going to teach her a _lesson_."

"Uh…" He's _blushing_.

"Not _that_ kind of lesson- and by the way you're a little _pervert_ , if you _ever_ imply something like that again, I'll castrate you-" I jab my finger at him and the graphics on his blade runner t-shirt go concave- _that's fun_. " _But I digress_ , you're going to make me a profile."

"As…?"

"I haven't decided yet, would you _back_ _off_?" I flap a hand at the door but he doesn't have my attention anymore- I'm already turning away "Go find something to do and wait until I need you."

 _This_ plan started percolating the moment I realized exactly what the offending page meant- _Harley_ is trying to get over me.

I don't like that _\- no, I don't like it at all._ Even if I don't want her right this moment, she still _belongs_ to me- and for that matter, I'm honestly _shocked_ that she thinks she can go back to whole-wheat after wonder-bread. Even if it weren't for the obvious downgrade in flavour, she's just _so_ easily bored; she needs a shakeup to stay interested, _that's why we work_! I'm about as stable as a roller coaster and she's got the attention span of a goldfish.

Not that she _deserves_ me, absolutely not.

But I will admit to a sort of…compatibility. Mutualism, if you will. Harley gets _everything_ out of me- honestly; she's like a leech- but she makes an attempt to pay for it in snacks, slapstick and servility- not to mention the incessant praise, which is almost as refreshing as it is annoying. _What_? My act gets more screams than applause, is it _so_ terrible that I might appreciate a bit of adulation every once and a while? As much as it begrudges me to admit, she almost _gets_ it- not like _Batsy_ gets it, but then he doesn't _get_ that he gets it, so I suppose it's a moot point.

Still! She should get _this_.

How can she not know? In what _world_ could she convince herself that this is acceptable behavior? This isn't part of the game; she can't just _walk off the board,_ and _no_ , I don't have the highest expectations for her but this is _basic_ \- this is elementary, grade one, rookie round! And I've _seen_ what she turns into when I'm not around- it's actually quite delicious in a revolting way. She _disintegrates_ , breaks completely with tangible reality and falls into a void until I care to come pull her out again. Maybe I will, and maybe I won't- but I want the _option_.

And here she is, less than a day after I dropped her, _taking it away._ Or maybe she _isn't_. Because the thing is I don't have the highest expectations for her. I _saw_ her last night, she was a hot mess- it was beautiful! It was a month of recovery at least, because Harley doesn't _bounce_ _back._ Not unless I'm around.

No, I am absolutely certain that Harley did _not_ make that account, and _that's_ where things get interesting. The picture is recent- you can tell because she's got that little scar on her eyebrow from last valentines day- and her hair is down so _Pammy_ must have taken it. More than that, I'd be willing to bet my prize Bat glove- _an invaluable souvenir, just so we're clear_ \- that _Pammy_ made the profile too, and I doubt she'll tell Harls about it until the last minute. _No_ , she'll be using her _superior_ intellect to select a suitor- clearly Harley has horrible taste- we wouldn't want to trust a grown woman to make her own choices, now would we? This just gets _better_ and _better_ , and I know exactly how to play this- but first things first, I need a name.

Who am I, who am I… gotta be Mr. Nice guy, gotta be harmless, inoffensive hypoallergenic and organic for the bush, but Harley needs danger so I'll be the devil in disguise. I'll be Devin Degul…isis? Nope, that'll get me on a watch list. Devin… Gluedsisi- nada. Delussigi, Legudissi, Siguidels...Delguissi?

Devin Delguissi is the devil in disguise.

Not bad at all- incredibly Italian but that shouldn't be an issue unless itchy bitchy decides to racially profile me as a mobster.

Next question: who _is_ Devin Delguissi? He needs to please Ivy on paper but Harley in person, he needs to be both the earth-licking, socially conscious door mat, and- well, _me_. That's all Harley really wants, it doesn't matter what package I'm in- but that's the easy part; fungal fanny is the _discerning_ one. So Devin Delguissi… goes tree planting, that's obvious. He probably heads some sort of environmental conservation committee in his free time, and he's… a professor- oh that's _good_ , very respectable and bound to get Harley going. But he doesn't do research- Ivy had that whole _issue_ with her thesis supervisor. No, Devin teaches… gender and women's studies. No that's too much- he teaches _one_ class through the history department, and that class is a history of the witch-hunts. Which means that he knows an _awful_ lot about torture. I won't put that part on the profile.

He's a considerate man, reserved, maybe a little bit awkward, comes from an upper-middle class, over-achieving family of academics- _y_ _eah_ , we're getting somewhere.

I'll make up the rest as I go, I need to start _creating._ So I get the Kid to starting working on Mr. Delguissi's online presence to my very detailed specifications. Mister D- _HA!_ Oh that is _priceless,_ I'll be _Mistah D_.

 _Not on task._

Right, time to mobilize an image team- which means I send muscle to kidnap some special effects make up artists and have them make prosthetics to hide my more _prominent_ facial features. Then I go to my tailor and I have him make a couple suits in browns and tweeds with elbow patches and sleeves that are just a little bit too short. I pair them with normal _boring_ bowties in a variety of greens. Speaking of greens, I grab my wig guy and he gets me something tousled but tame in a reddish brunette. I give my visible bits a tan in _pale peach_ with a liberal coating of pancake makeup, and I pop in some darker green contacts to dull my eyes. Once the get up is complete, I take pictures for the _Ok Stupid_ profile and the GCU faculty page and now that they're up, Devin Delguissi looks like a _real boy_.

After that I wait as the kid weaves his way into the dating site's database to find Harley and match us, and it doesn't take long for the Venus guy-trap to take a snap. So we're off! Thus begins two months of wooing _Ivy_ \- ugh doesn't _that_ feel icky to say.

I ease her into things with stories about the various environmental crusades of my youth and eventually I open up about my bipolar mother who I've been nursing through the highs and lows since I was a child. I added that part because she seemed to be looking for some evidence of empathic stamina, she wanted to know if Devin could _handle_ Harley- which would be an understandable concern for anyone else- _I_ can more than handle her.

Which is why- _whatever, nevermind._

I don't mention the gender and women's course because Devin wouldn't want to come off as a mansplainer; he leaves that for Ivy to find when she inevitably googles him. He's doing well, I can _tell_ , but she just keeps _grilling_ \- I can't imagine anyone else sticking it out for this asinine interrogation but I am fairly entertained and the bottomless 20 questions is really helping with character development. The cherry on top is the fact that she _reveals_ herself in the end; she comes right out and declares herself a concerned friend _Hailey's._ Unsurprisingly she neglects to apologize for the psychotic skullduggery and moves on to a list of requirements should I still be crazy enough to court Mrs. Gwynn.

Yes you heard that right, _Hailey Gwynn._

Perfect gentleman that he is, Devin waxes poetic about how _heartwarming_ it is that Ivy cares enough about her dear friend to put _all_ this time into finding her a date. He vows propriety, decency and respectful distance- he even asks about Hailey's dietary restrictions before venturing to suggest a restaurant and he makes _damn_ _sure_ that the place buys their broccoli from a sustainable farmer.

All that's left to do is set a date! _Devin you sly dog-_ does it count as a double if both of you are actually two different people?

I'll have to ask Harv.

 **Authors Notes round two: Character analysis time!**

To start us off I'd like to say that I am a feminist!

That means that I believe men and women should have equal rights, not that men are shit or that women should have more rights than men- just equal. I'm bringing this up because this fic deals fairly flippantly with gender and orientation related issues, and I just want to be clear that the views expressed are the characters views and not mine (In Jokers case he might not even be expressing his own views). I do think that classical, _heteronormative_ (the expectation that straightness is the default sexual orientation) _gender roles_ can be harmful (ex. women are submissive, soft, wear makeup, men are dominant, logical, and can never wear skirts) when they are an expectation. I do not think it is anti-feminist to engage in those roles if you are making an educated choice about it- that is, you can know that women are not in fact inferior to men, but you can still choose to act out an inferior role in a relationship with a male partner, and this does not make you less of a feminist. I believe that equality means that all women (as in all people who identify as women) should be able to choose whatever roles or forms of expression they enjoy, whether or not those are traditionally considered "feminine" or have been enforced by patriarchal social structures. Those roles are only harmful when women are socially penalized for not adhering to them- the same goes for male gender roles.

That's my brand of feminism- Ivy's is different.

My Ivy is not an anti-hero or a man-hater, but she is deeply detached from humanity which reduces her capacity for accurate social understanding. As a result she has a tendency to project her own beliefs and experiences onto other people. Being the only human that Ivy gives a shit about, Harley is especially susceptible to that, and given that Ivy has a history of trauma at the hands of a male abuser (Jason Woodrow) I don't think it's particularly surprising that she might have an overly-generalized and predominantly negative view of men, or that she might see her own trauma in Harley's relationship. Ivy also considers herself to be morally and intellectually superior to all humans (she does not identify as human) so she has a tendency to devalue Harley's opinion. All that said, I love Ivy- surprise, surprise, I like flawed people! I love her passion and her begrudging affection for Harley.

Moving on!

I think that Harley's feminism is fairly similar to mine: she doesn't think that women were made to serve men, but she enjoys engaging in a relationship with a consensually unequal power dynamic. It's a choice- or at least it is in my writing. As I said earlier, I'm not going to make any statements about canon because there are about a million conflicting characterizations for any given character, and some depictions of this relationship are definitely abusive. The relationship that I'm trying to write here is meant to be more representative of a _24/7 BDSM_ relationship that follows _RACK_ guidelines- that is, the violence (physical and verbal) within the relationship is mutually consensual and not coercive. Abuse can exist in BDSM relationships if either partner is being coerced into acts that they truly do not wish to take part in.

To be clear, I would not consider a real life relationship that regularly endangers the life of one or both partners to be healthy. That said, fiction is fun because it allows us to caricature and exaggerate things, to explore extremes of emotion and experience that are nearly impossible in real life. Honestly, I think the grand majority of fictional relationships are unhealthy- we idealize co-dependence and sexualized conflict without thinking about what it means. Joker and Harley represent an exaggerated BDSM dynamic in the same way that Romeo and Juliet represent exaggerated love in general- most people wouldn't be willing to actually die for their partner, but it's still considered a classic love story. If we want to talk about unhealthy I'd just like to remind you all that Juliet was thirteen and Romeo was in his twenties, and they only knew each other for about four days before they decided to commit suicide together.

And now the infamous Mr J, who is probably the reason I felt the need to write this in the first place.

He has been called many things over the years and a lot of those things are true- however, I would not consider him a misogynist. To be honest I don't necessarily consider him straight or cis either- lets unpack this shall we? The thing about the Joker is that he transcends social conditioning, he resists cultural pressure to conform- he just doesn't give a shit what people think of him (most of the time). Realistically identity labels don't mean much to him- that doesn't negate their importance to other people, it's just that he sees them as limiting. If you were to ask him about his gender and sexual orientation, his honest answer (which he would never give you) is that he is a clown and a sado-masochist. In functional terms I consider him non-binary (using male pronouns) and pansexual.

However, Joker likes social control; He likes to be able to manipulate beliefs and expectations, and some of the easiest expectations to manipulate are those we have about gender and sexuality. I could probably cite a million examples of him doing this in the comics, but like I said I'm only addressing my versions of the characters so I'll stick to that. The point here is that people are uncomfortable when they can't categorize someone, and I think he's very conscious of that. He makes use of the assumptions we have about masculinity and heterosexual relationships to craft his public persona, but he doesn't believe that they have any power or legitimacy aside from the importance we give them as a society. To be honest, I think part of his resistance to Harley is that he sees a heterosexual relationship with a pretty girl as too conventional, although this changes over the course of the relationship as he realizes how disturbed people are by them.

And that's the other thing: people are _disturbed_ by them. They are seen as unhealthy, and abusive and every other horrible thing under the sun, and they both know that. Just as Joker plays with expectations about gender and sexuality, they both play with expectations about their relationship to the point that it's become a comedy bit for them. They play Lucy and Ricardo with blood and guns instead of show tunes and bongo drums.

So yeah, that's about it for my little spiel. In conclusion all is not what it seems, and I'm trying to write something that moves away from the abuse narrative while keeping the characters as they are, and without removing the conflict from the relationship. As a last note, I would like to invite you to message me if you were confused about any of the terms used here. If people don't know what I mean by " a 24/7 BDSM relationship with RACK guidelines", I would be happy to write a little note explaining that too.

I hope this has been a useful explanation!

Much love to you all,

XoXo, Sewer-Angel


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note:** See? I told you I'd be updating this one faster.

Hope you guys are enjoying the story so far! As always thank you to everyone reading, much love to you all 3

Warnings from the first chapter still apply here.

 **Harley- May 6** **th** **, 6:24 pm**

I don't think I've ever regretted anything more than this _stupid_ date.

I was just going to throw on some old jeans and a sweatshirt and go, but Ivy said that even though she thinks makeup is a mechanism of patriarchal control, she knows I would have put some on if I was meeting 'that rat-faced bastard'. So here I am, curling my hair. She woke me up this morning with some sort of abominable health shake, and she had me in the bath with an aloe mask on my face an hour later. When I got out she was _waiting_ for me with nail polish and a stack of my favorite rom coms- all of which she loathes, but she doesn't say _anything_. Sure, there might have been a few grumbles here and there but she's trying so hard that I almost feel _bad._ Definitely not bad enough though, this is hilarious; she bought biodegradable nail polish but she's still wearing a surgical mask, and when I offer to paint my own toes she tells me very forcefully that she's going to support me no matter what.

Support apparently means neuroticism.

She babbles on about what I should and shouldn't let this _Devin_ do; I should pull out my own chair and pay my half of the check but he should at least _offer-_ just not in a condescending way, because we don't want me to date someone who allows themselves to be governed by hetero-normative gender roles. He can offer to walk me home but he absolutely must _not_ look for an invitation inside. He needs check his privilege and avoid toxic masculinity at all costs, and if he doesn't he'll have an angry gardener to answer to. Well, her and her army of floral fiends- I almost want to badmouth the guy just to watch her rip him apart.

I'd start right now if I wasn't worried about her having a breakdown- the attempt to balance her own cynicism with enough positivity to get me excited is obviously taking a toll. She'll express awe that a white, straight man would take an interest in feminist issues and then she'll remind me that he doesn't deserve an award for attempting to treat his fellow humans with basic dignity. She tells me that he's a professor of history- and I gotta admit I got a little _thing_ for that, but it ain't like this shmuck can pull it off like _He_ did… _god_ , there was this one time with a meter stick- But I'm not going to think about that right now, thoughts like that will either make me cry or… something else. Either way I'll be wet.

 _Anyway_ \- Ivy says the historian thing would be a red flag if he were one of those fuckboys with a hard-on for Columbus, but he's decided to focus on the cultural mysogniny of medieval Europe and its relation to the advent of privatized agriculture instead, and apparently that's acceptable. Don't worry; I don't know what it means either- _just smile and nod._

I've got bigger things to worry about, because Devin isn't the only one who has to live up to Ivy's expectations. Apparently I have some inappropriately lax boundaries, and she really doesn't endorse victim blaming but I she thinks I should be conscious of the fact that my aesthetic choices do make a certain _impression_. That means I'm not allowed to wear my pigtails- she thinks they're cute, but she doesn't want him to see me as juvenile. I don't think she's ever recovered from finding out about the daddy thing- for a lady who walks around in her birthday suit most of the time she can be a real prude.

So I leave my hair down in loose ringlets and I pin back the bits around my face to keep them from being dragged through my food- I may not be taking this seriously but I'd rather not come off as a total slob _._ I try on a few dresses and Ivy fusses relentlessly until I put on a light pink number I picked up in a vintage shop- ok I stole it, sue me. My basket case bestie has chewed her nails to stubs by the time she deems me ready, and I find myself looking at my reflection with a strange sense of apathy. I look pretty, but I don't really look like _myself._

Then again, I guess I'm not- I'm Hailey Gwynn.

Ivy walks me to the door and hands me my heart-shaped purse packed with pepper spray, ammo, and my favorite glock- the nine-millimeter with the hello kitty stickers. She clutches my hand and wishes me luck, which is my cue to _get_ _out_ because I think she might start taking pictures like a proud Midwestern mom on prom night.

I've decided to walk- it's a nice night and the restaurant _Devin_ picked isn't too far away. Unfortunately it's a bit too close, and before I know it I'm standing outside- I wouldn't hesitate to keep walking if I didn't think I might have a sneaky green chaperone hiding somewhere, but she'll murder me _and_ Puddin' if I blow this off.

 _Just go inside, sit there for an hour, eat a plate of ribs, and get home in time for Mob Wives._ He won't be _terrible,_ will he? He'll probably be nice and normal. And boring.

But who _wouldn't_ be in comparison to-

"Hailey?"

The voice is deep, steady, and sudden, and I whip around to find myself face-to-face with… a tweed blazer? I look up, and then I _keep_ looking up. I guess Ivy got _one_ thing right, he's gotta' be almost as tall as- "Devin Delguissi." He offers an unscarred hand with trim nails and long fingers, and I take it without really feeling it- he's… handsome.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." He means it, but his smile doesn't show any teeth and his eyes flick away quickly like he's not sure how long he's allowed to look at me.

His features are strong but not sharp, his face pale but not pasty, with a dusting of freckles that suggest a summer to be spent indoors. His hair is an ambiguous shade of red-brown like it can't decide, and the cut is fresh, short on the sides and long on top but un-styled so that it curls and sways in the breeze. He fidgets, shoves his hands into the pockets of his dark brown trousers. His whole outfit is in shades of brown and white- he could be sepia if it weren't for his bow tie- and his eyes; they're green. Not _that_ green- just an ordinary shade of clover. They are pretty though… but just a _normal_ kind of pretty, nothing astounding or jaw dropping, nothing that could ever rival _Him._

"…Hi?" My voice is too quiet and my cheeks flush as I clear my throat. "Um, should we…" I nod my head at the door and his eyes go wide for a second.

"Oh! Right, sorry, I'm-" He shakes his left hand next to his head before apparently taking stock of the idiosyncratic gesture and dropping it as he steps forward to hold the door open for me. "Brains before beauty." He says it a bit too fast for proper comedic delivery, but it startles a smile out of me just the same- someone else said that to me once, and I almost expect the door to swing back and smack me in the face as I step through.

It doesn't.

Once inside, I remember Red's lecture about pulling seats out, so I rush to the nearest available table, and I plop my ass down before he has the chance to offer. I'm pretty sure that's not what she wanted me to do, but she made such a big deal that I panicked! I take a peek at Devin to see if he thinks I'm crazy, and I'm pretty sure he was laughing but the expression disappeared the moment I turned.

He pulls out his own chair and sits at a considerably slower pace than I did, and after a moment he looks up to catch my gaze.

"So…was there any particular reason you felt such a passionate attraction to this _specific_ table?" The question is so deadpan that I honestly can't tell if he's teasing, but I decide to act like he is.

"Easy access to an exit-" I shrug. "Y'know, in case you're creepy."

He chuckles, turning his eyes down, and I crack a half smile.

"And yet," He presses the tip of his index finger to the table. "in doing so, you've blocked _my_ exit- what does that say about _you_?"

 _Funny guy, huh?_

"Ya' caught me Mister, I'm a real _bruiser_." I make a muscle arm to show off an underwhelming bicep. I mean _yeah_ , Ivy's booster juice gave me the strength of a heavy weight, but he doesn't know that.

" _Whoa_ now, there's no need for _guns,_ I'll give you anything you want!"

Ok, so this isn't as boring as I thought it would be. _Yes it is, stop having fun._

Fuck, this is weird, I feel _weird,_ I shouldn't _be_ here- thankfully the waiter appears to save me from my anxious spiral. I order the ribs, he order's steak- rare, and we fall silent waiting for the wine. I play with the corner of my fancy cloth napkin and he picks at the sleeve of his jacket, and oh god, I made it _awkward_. He takes a breath like he's about to say something, but he lets go of it when I look up hopefully, averting his gaze again.

 _Shit, shit, ok, I need to save this._

"So…um, you teach a gender and women's studies class?"

"Oh, yes," Its almost an exclamation and he seems grateful for the talking point. "I do- a history of the witch hunts from the Middle Ages to the early modern period. Technically I teach it through the history department but the course _is_ cross listed- obviously the content is relevant."

"Oh wow!" I'm surprise by my genuine enthusiasm and it feels a bit illicit- it _is_ , _its cheating you tramp, even if he doesn't want you-_ Oh god don't think about that, think about witchcraft, witchcraft is cool. And remember to _breath_. "That's um, pretty cool-" I sound a little strangled but he doesn't seem to notice, so I go on. "Did they actually _burn_ people?"

This earns me a smile, the first big smile I've seen all night and its… I just didn't expect a guy like him to have a smile like _that_.

"They _did_ -" there's a conspiratorial glint in his eye when he speaks. "Although _unfortunately_ not as many as most people think." Unfortunately? "In reality only about sixty-thousand people were executed from 1450 to 1750." His cadence is still stiff but there's a new zeal hiding just under the surface and I've got an urge to pull it out- unfortunately the waiter chooses this moment to butt in with our food, but I spit out my question the moment he walks away.

"Did they always just burn them?" Its a gamble for sure- I don't keep the most delicate company, so I'm not really sure what counts as appropriate dinner conversation anymore.

" _No,"_ There's a small pause as he adjusts his grip on the steak knife, but then that smile stretches into a grin. "They did all _sorts_ of horrible things- and they often tortured them first."

"… what _kinda_ torture?" I can't keep the question in because _shit_ , this is interesting! I'm _interested_. No I'm not.

 _I'm only in it for the ancient torture wisdom._

"Well, first they'd prick you all over with _pins_ to find a witches mark," He lifts his fork, and presses a tine to the back of my hand to illustrate. A giggle pops out of me.

"-Which was supposedly some sort of blemish that symbolized your pact with the devil. Whether or not they _found_ something they'd still interrogate you- the mark was a good piece of physical evidence, but what they _really_ needed to convict was a _confession._ So if you didn't come up with a good story in time, they'd up the stakes with thumbscrews or a flogger. If that wasn't enough they'd move on to holding you underwater and pulling you out just before you pass out, and they'd do it _again_ and _again_ until you either confessed or died. Oh, god, and the _Judas_ chair!" His brows pull together, and he coughs, shaking his head. "Actually, I probably shouldn't explain that one in a nice restaurant."

If I'm not mistaken he looks just a little bit flustered and its… god it's honestly kind of cute. I'm blushing, I'm not supposed to be _blushing._ Maybe you could tell me _later- No, do not say that under any circumstance._

Harley, _no_. _Bad._

"Wow…" It's not the best response in the world but it's definitely better than a thinly veiled invitation to my bed. _Fuck_. I'm a terrible person.

"Shit." He mutters, wiping a hand over his face. "I'm sorry, I sound like a serial killer don't I?" Well it wouldn't be the _worst_ thing you could sound like. "What kind of person talks about torture on a first date? I swear to god I'm just a history nerd-"

"Its ok!" I feel something warm under my palm and I look down to find that I've reached out to put my hand on his. For a moment I can't breath because it feels _familiar_ \- I pull back, and I can't bring myself to look at him, so I stare at my meal instead. "Um, I think it's really interesting, actually."

I'm interested- _shut up,_ say something _else, look at him._ My gaze flicks up to find him looking back with what appears to be a split second of calculation- but then there's a furrow to his brow as he pulls his lower lip between his teeth and again he becomes the picture self-conscious apprehension.

"And I'd know if you were a serial killer."

" _Would_ you?" His brows arch. He has _nice_ eyebrows- I've always had a thing for that. _Godamn it._

"I used to work at Arkham- serial killers are kind of my thing." God Harley, why the hell would you say that, that was _weird_.

"That's _fascinating_ ," he leans in and I instantly feel better but I _shouldn't_ \- "Did you treat anyone…notable?"

 _Fuck_ \- I knew that question was coming but it still hits my stomach like a brick, and I have to look down because my eyes are starting to sting. I blink hard, and I take a breath.

"The Riddler… he was interesting, very obsessive- massive inferiority complex. And then- well, I never treated her, but I did get to spend some time with Poison Ivy."

"I always thought she seemed a bit misunderstood- is it _really_ so bad to want to protect the environment?"

"Exactly! I mean she definitely has some kind of empathy disorder, but she's no psychopath, nothing like-" _Say it Harley, you can say his name_. "I worked with the Joker as well."

Devin's brows push up.

"What was _he_ like?"

"He was…" Amazing, perfect, the most attractive person on the planet, the love of my life- "Interesting."

"Interesting?"

"You ever meet someone who… he's like the sun- you want to look at him, you want to figure him out, but you know that if you try you'll go blind. You try anyways."

"Is that your professional opinion?" There's something odd in his tone that makes me meet his eyes, and for a second there's a flicker of…I don't know.

"My report was heavier on DSM terminology, but yes."

"The way you describe him… you make him sound omnipotent, but he seems more like the devil- destructive but limited by some larger force that allows his existence with only a sprinkle of reprimand; that force being God. Or Batman if we want to continue the metaphor, and by that logic, Harley Quinn is a witch- you would consider what they have to be a _pact_ , wouldn't you?"

 _Very much so, and it's a pact that I'm disrespecting by being_ here, _on a_ date, _with_ you- take a deep breath.

"I would."

 **Joker- May 6** **th** **, 8:47 pm**

" _Fascinating_."

Harley's a hot _mess- oh_ that bit about the pact was _genius._ And she could barely say my name! Devin is _killing_ it- metaphorically speaking, of course.

This is _so_ much better than I thought it would be.

She was conflicted the moment she saw me, but at this point she's a fucking warzone, and I can just tell that she hasn't _once_ questioned Devin's verity. _Oh Harley, you naïve little degenerate_ \- I'm not sure if it's a testament to my theatrical prowess or a demonstration of her ignorance. Although I suppose I am fairly unexpected in this get-up. She looks pale too, and there are bags under her eyes- I bet she's still mourning me. Still having to _force_ herself up in the morning, continuing to breathe solely for the _hope_ that I might come back- I doubt she trusts her own judgment much these days.

No, she doesn't have a _clue_.

She _does_ know that she likes me, but she thinks she likes _Devin_ and she _hates_ it. She'll lean in and her pupils will dilate as Devin talks, but then he'll do something to remind her of me, and she _deflates_. It's like I finally found her off button and I just want to keep _pushing_ it. I want to see how _low_ she can go- its like emotional limbo! Fun aside, something tells me she's a _bit_ too close to hysterics for the restaurant setting, and I would prefer to enjoy that later… so it's time to distract.

"Ok, here's the _really_ tough question; who's the antagonist- Tweety or Sylvester?" The change of topic seems to take her by surprise and her face clears before she beams.

"Tweety, obviously. He's always got these _mean_ traps for poor Sylvester, and he's only doing what cats do- they're natural hunters!"

"Doesn't Tweety have the right to defend himself?"

"Sure, but not like _that_ , he's downright vindictive!" She slams a small fist against the table and I _have_ to laugh at that.

" _I_ _see_ , you're a cat person."

"Nah, I got two _beautiful_ baby puppies"- _full grown hyenas-_ "I just think animals should be allowed to be animals, y'know? Its not fair to vilify em' for killing their prey."

"That's a strong statement- does it extend to _human_ animals?" I make my eyebrows bounce like it's a joke but it will unsettle her either way.

"Oh- _no_ , of course not! Humans are different- I should have been more clear when I said that, obviously humans are animals, I'm a doctor, I _know_ that-"

"Hailey," This time I'm the one to reach across the table, and she stills under my hand. " _Hailey_ , I was joking, it's ok."

"I know, I just… I'm sorry, I'm not used to this. It's been… a really long time since I've been on a first date."

I pull my hand back and she watches it go.

"I know how you feel." I give her my sad-sackiest smile, and it seems to comfort her enough for me to excuse myself to the men's.

Instead, I find the waiter and I pay the bill because I'm almost entirely sure that Ivy would have told Harley to pay her part. She confirms the suspicion by squirming when I make it back to the table to tell her that I've settled our tab- it's a struggle to act like I don't notice how flustered she gets, letting out half an aborted protest and then stuttering a thank you. I ask to walk her home and she does that teetering thing for a while before she says yes, and the guilt is _immediate- oh_ this is _lovely_. She _likes_ Devin but she knows she shouldn't- she shows it by repeatedly gravitating closer as we walk, only noticing and correcting herself when our sleeves brush. I don't make an attempt to close the distance- I asked to walk her home but _she_ needs to feel responsible, so the next move is hers.

That doesn't mean I can't speed it along though- I just need something to disorient her, I need _adrenaline._ Fear, excitement, anger- _whatever-_ if it lights up her amygdala, it turns her into a creature of urge. Oh sure, the average bear will get flighty or fighty after a nice dose of terror, but that's not what _Harley_ does, no she gets _bold_. Bludgeon a man to death in front of her and she'll tell you she loves you, dangle her over the side of a building and she'll start trying to strip when you pull her back up- usually its insufferable, but today it's incredibly convenient. So I need _something..._

"Hands up! Both of you!"

I…holy _shit_.

I almost don't believe my eyes- I'm being _mugged_. Someone is mugging me- _me!_ Oh, I just want to _laugh_ but that would be _so_ out of character- _damn you, Devin- you dapper dullard!_ Apparently wishes _do_ come true- Harley is watching me closely, almost with a manic intensity. She wants _Devin_ to fight this man as much as she wants _Devin_ to back down, because if _Devin_ fights him, he'll be more attractive and she'll feel even worse about _me_. Don't you just love it when the gas pedal _pops up_ right under your foot?

Obviously I do as the man asked! Come on- he's got a _gun_ , I'm not _crazy_.

"Whoa now, there's no need for violence," I put a little quiver in Devin's voice, just for the hell of it. Harley- oh, _ha_ , she looks so _disappointed_! "You want our money? Hailey, get out your wallet-" She actually _sighs-_ Oh she's going to _kill_ me with this. I'm just trying not to crack up as I take a step towards our would-be mugger, reaching into my jacket.

"Hey!" he barks and the gun jumps up a bit- _amateur._

"I'm sorry!" I freeze, but I'm close enough. "Look, I was just trying to give you my wallet-" I slowly draw that wallet- Devin's not mine- from my pocket. "Ok?"

"Just _hurry_ _up_ , man, " He growls, waving the gun in _Hailey's_ direction- "her's too."

"Ok! Ok, _here-_ " I hold out Devin's wallet, and the guy goes for it- of _course_ he does. Takes his eyes off me and pins them to the leather in my palm- which means he isn't watching my other hand as I bring it up to smack the ( _cheap)_ gun out of his grip.

Yes, I could have _taken_ the gun- it would have been easy and over in about five seconds, and he would have had a nice new lead implant in his frontal lobe. But this isn't about easy, it's about _showmanship_. So I let him land the first punch, its only _fair_ after all- I even let out a little groan like it _hurt_. I give him time to recoil and pitch another hit, but I duck under this one, coming up close to deliver a jab to the solar plexus. He stumbles back, breathing hard and struggling to tug a switchblade from his pocket. I let him get it open, and then I step away from the first wild swipe he makes.

I want to _take_ it, I want to _push_ it between his ribs and into his _heart,_ I want to shove it into an open eye and wiggle it around in the socket- but Devin would _never_ do that.

So instead I grab the hand holding the knife and I twist it away from my body, using the leverage to pull him down as I drive my knee up into his stomach. He goes down and I could easily pull out of grip, but I decide to go down with him instead. We grapple on the dirty concrete, and I let him punch me across the jaw because I'm pretty sure that it won't mess up the prosthetics, and then its _time_. I pin him, and I start punching, aiming for the nose and mouth to make him bleed- at some point he stops resisting so I force myself to drop him, pushing up to my feet and stumbling back.

" _Fuck."_ Whispers Devin as I wipe my bloody hand across my mouth. Then I turn to watch Harley's pupils dilate- it's _amazing_ how predictable she is.

In the darkness of the alley the color of Devin's skin and hair won't stand out so much, but the blood on his mouth will be a beacon to her, and for a moment _he'_ ll turn into _me_ \- that's all it will take. She's already closing the gap between us, reaching up to my neck with shaking hands and pulling me down to crush her mouth against mine.

 _So_ , I let her lead the kiss for a few seconds before the _me_ comes out- and don't project your ignominious romantic fantasies onto me, I'm not _desperate with need._ _Kissing_ isn't independently rewarding, but it _can_ be mildly entertaining if you make it a fight, and it _gets_ you somewhere- _no_ , I'm not talking about Harley's _unmentionables_. The thing I'm doing right now, with my tongue? That taps _straight_ into her limbic system; I can _feel_ her falling apart. She's making all the right (horrifying) sounds, she's got her hands in my hair- she's like _putty_ right now. I shove her against the wall at her back and _surprise, surprise,_ she _likes_ that, digs her claws into the back of my neck like I'm a godamn scratching post.

So I bite!

She likes that too but it's more _me_ than _Devin,_ and she's starting to _think_. She's wondering if she's _projecting_ me onto this poor, innocent man, if she's reading _me_ between the lines when I'm nowhere to be found- if she's _really_ that desperate... Oh this is _good._

I haven't had this much fun since Batsy accidentally punched me in the dick- actually no, that was definitely better. But _still_ , this is pretty great.

Her noises are changing, taking a turn for the mournful as she remembers that she's _cheating_ and she's about five seconds from pushing _Devin_ away, but I can't give her _that._ Nope, _I'm_ the one who pulls away first- she can't even tell herself that she _stopped_ it! She _knows_ too, knows its _all_ her fault- oh _god_ I wish I could take a picture of her face right now. She just looks _so_ betrayed- she can't deny what she's done anymore; her hands are bloody fucking red- literally! It's not _my_ blood but it may as well be.

"I'm _so_ sorry-" I say, hiding my face splitting-grin with a regretfully apologetic frown. "I don't usually attack people in alleyways," I run a hand back through my wig- _which is starting to get itchy_ \- and I cringe. "I didn't- I wasn't planning on doing that, I _swear_. I don't want you to think that _I_ thought you-"

" _Please_." Her voice shakes, and she's got her arms wrapped around her chest, making her even smaller. "It's my fault, I started it." _Oh yes you did._ "You just, um, you saved me from that mugger, and I just-" She does something that looks like jazz hands, as if _that_ explains anything, and _yahtzee_ , she's doing that thing where she scrunches up her face like it will make her tear ducts smaller. She's going to start crying!

"I'm tired, can you- I need to go home." She _really_ had to force that one out- she sounds like I'm choking her.

"Of _course_ ," She's got her eyes pinned to the ground, a hand covering her mouth as we start to walk again. "I'm _really_ sorry, Hailey." She shivers on Devin's second apology because she _knows_ he's not the one who should be apologizing, but _he's_ a considerate guy- "Are you cold? Here-" I shrug off the blazer and drape it over her shoulders before she can decline, just to make it _that_ much worse. Now she's _wearing_ him, but _him_ smells like _me_ , and she thinks her conscience might have learned some newer, more sadistic tricks. I wonder if she's thought about what _I'll_ do if I find out. Maybe she's planning a cover up- ah… _no_ , she's going to _tell_ me, she's planning to come to me like I'm a fucking _priest_ in a confessional booth. Oh _yes_ , she wants _penance_ \- she won't look at Devin again, keeping quiet and _obviously_ stewing, so he follows her lead.

 _Fucking flawless._

She walks fast, so it doesn't take long to make it to the apartment she's apparently been sharing with the plant, and I'm trying to figure out how I want to play this. I _could_ make the reveal on the steps but somehow that seems _lack_ luster- _ooh_ I could leave her clueless, and then I could contact her as _me_ , and accuse her of cheating before she has a chance to come clean… That kind of play _demands will-power_ though, and I'm not known for that.

We're there, _Hailey_ is turning around to apologize again and brush me off so she can go curl up in a hate-hole, so fuck it! I'm gonna-

"Hailey?"

 _Yes_. Yes a million times, this is _perfect_ \- this couldn't be going better if I'd written it myself! _Why_ , you ask? Because a _concerned friend_ is walking toward us. Ivy has traded her usual shade of Oscar-the-grouch-green for something that makes her look halfway human. I mean she still looks like a _hippie_ \- I can't tell if she's wearing a skirt or a pair of exceedingly voluminous pants, but either way I don't see why _I_ should be subjected to that kind of eyesore. She's trying to act like she's surprised to see us, even though its obvious that she's been waiting like some sort of over grown trap-spider. Harley slaps on a strained grin faster than I can say phoney.

"Oh hey _Izzy,_ I didn't realize you'd be _home_ so early!"

Itchy forces a laugh.

"Well you know _me_ , such a homebody- aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" She gives a fairly directive nod in my direction, grinning like a pageant queen. Harley has the audacity to roll her eyes at that, but Pammy's eyebrows jump and she seems to reconsider her attitude

"Sure!" _Overly chipper_. "Devin, this is my best friend _Izzy_ , Izzy this is _Devin_."

" _Devin_ , so nice to meet you!" Friendliness isn't a flattering tack for Ivy, that's for sure- she looks like she might start twitching but I play along, making a little "O" with my mouth like I've just figured out which _friend_ Izzy is.

"Likewise." I give her a very _safe_ smile as I reach out to shake her hand, and she returns something significantly more disturbing.

"Ok, goodnight _Devin_!" _Aw Harleykins_ \- you can really tell the tyke is running on her last teaspoon of restraint.

"Oh, there's no need for _that_ -" Interjects the increasingly forceful Ivy. "Why don't you come up for tea, _Devin_?"

 _I'd love to._

"I couldn't _possibly_ -"

"Nonsense!" She exclaims, and then she _actually_ grabs my arm to drag me inside. _I_ want to punch her, but Devin allows the man-handling, peeking over my shoulder to give Harley an awkwardly apologetic smile. She's staring bullets and gritting her teeth, looking just about ready to attack someone, and I _really_ hope it's me-

"How was _dinner_?" If I'm not mistaken, there's a hint of suggestion there- although if I'm being honest, Harley _does_ look frazzled enough to have just been fucked.

" _Fine!_ " Barks the fiend in question.

"Very enjoyable." Says Devin.

" _Seems like an understatement_." Mutters Nosy-Rosie, all but shoving me into the elevator. Harley follows, shoulders hiked up and _bright_ _red_ \- I need to match that but don't worry, I can blush on command. Its really simple, you just clench your stomach and you _don't_ breath until all the blood rushes to your head-it only takes a few seconds and its _very_ convincing if you've got a decent poker face.

"Devin- did you get a _nose_ _bleed_ or something?" _Ha!_ I'm having so much fun that I _almost_ forgot about the assault.

"No-" I pinch my eyebrows together, wiping at the blood on my mouth and chin. "We um- almost got mugged?"

"Good Gaia-" _The poor thing can't even swear properly._ "Hailey, didn't you use the mace?" Like Harley needs _mace_ \- her smile alone is more noxious.

"Didn't have to- Devin sorta…had it covered." If possible, Harley's gotten even _redder_ and she's glaring at the floor like she wants to fight it.

"Got bullied in high school." Mumbles Devin, turning his eyes down in suite. "Took some Jujitsu."

"Good for you, Devin, it's important to be able to defend yourself in a city like Gotham." _Lovely_ , she patronizes _everyone_ \- not just _me_. Devin smiles politely.

The elevator dings at the sixth floor and we collectively unload, filing all the way down the hall to the last unit on the west side. Ivy pushes Harley out of the way to unlock the door, so Devin waves her ahead and she stomps in before me. The moment I step across the hearth I'm smacked with the stench of _nature_ \- its like I'm in a rainforest, _there are_ _vines all over the godamn walls._

" _Wow_ -" I can't help it. I'm not sure how long I'm going to last before I break character- _come_ _on_ , this is too much! There is _no_ way she's getting her damage deposit back.

"Do you like my _décor_ , Devin?" The venom in hippie-dippy's voice is thinly veiled as she leads us into a possibly greener living room. She's just _waiting_ for a reason to come down on me, so of course I'm highly motivated to be a perfect gentleman, waiting for them to choose seats before taking on of my own next to Harley on an overstuffed red-velvet couch.

"Yes, actually, its _spectacular-"_ I but on my best expression of awe as I take in the 'décor'- it's like one of those apocalypse movies where civilization's been abandoned and the buildings are all mossy. "I was just about to say, you must have _tremendous_ air quality." Harley grumbles unintelligibly- _awww, jealous?_ Meanwhile, Pammy's eye's bulge, making it obvious that Devin's response was unexpected. There's a moment of silence as she blinks and then-

"Yes- thank you." Her words are starch-stiff but I can't laugh now, _oh no_ , this is _not_ laughing time. "I have a bit of green thumb."

" _I'd_ say- do you own an indoor landscaping business?"

"No, just a hobby."

What follows is what most would call an awkward silence as Harley (who clearly just wants to go cry) continues to fume, and Ivy (who has obviously abandoned her promise of tea in attempt to salvage the situation) becomes increasingly _sour_ in the face. Funnily enough, Devin is _no_ good at awkward silences, so get to I sit back and watch the three of them flounder. Ivy's foot starts to tap, and her eyes dart around the room, apparently trying to come up with something to say. Harley makes a little grunting sound in her throat, which is what she does when she's trying to swallow something impudent but then her mouth opens- _oh yeah, its go time!_

" _I'm_ going to bed." The assertion comes out a little whiny, and the stomp she makes as she stands doesn't help much. She turns to me, evidently having tried to soften her expression but its no use, she has _crazy_ eyes right now. "Thanks for taking me out, Devin _."_

Her roommate cuts in before I even have a chance to open my mouth, but I'm _happy_ to let this play out for a while- this is _good stuff_.

" _Really_ , Hailey?" _Ooh_ , itchy is _pissy_ , and I'm quite sure the mini-tree thing at the end of the couch just twitched.

"Uh- _huh._ I'm _exhausted_ ; I just need to _go to bed_."

"That's awfully rude considering we have a _guest_." _Ooh, that's me!_

" _Ha_ \- no, _we_ don't have a guest _Pamela_ -"

"I thought her name was Izzy-" _No_ body listens to Devin.

"As far as I'm concerned, he's _your_ guest." Harley goes on, her voice getting squeaky, which means she's about to bring out the pointer finger- yup, right on schedule. " _You_ picked him, _you_ brought him up here-"

"For _you!"_ The forest fire-crotch is standing now too, and I'm _really_ craving popcorn all of a sudden. "Do you think I _wanted_ to spend months talking to this meat-bag? No!" _That's professor meat-bag to you_. "I did it because I _care_ about you- _Gaia knows why_ , but apparently I'm the _only_ one who does-"

"Are you fricken' _KIDDING_ me?" The chipmunk is _screaming_ now- I'm ready for the windows to shatter as she marches across the room up on tip toes to try and get in Ivy's face.

"If this is what _care_ feels like, you can shove it where the sun don't shine, and while you're down there you might wanna pull your stupid head outta storage!" _Sick burn, Harls._

" _Oh_ , of _all_ the ungrateful-"

"Un _grateful_?"

"Yes, Harley! Ungrateful! _You_ \- no, you know what? I'm going to _explain_ this, because you _clearly_ don't understand; I _value_ my time alone. I don't _need_ you to keep me company, _especially_ because I'm at least half as effective when you're around-" _Preach it sister._ " I don't _need_ you, Harley, but I _still_ take you in, _every time_ he-"

"It's only happened _TWO_ times!"

"Two times is _ENOUGH_! Do you have _any_ idea how much _work_ you are?" _Well,_ that _is_ not _going to go down well-_

" _Friends_ ain't supposed to be _work_ , Pam."

"You're not my friend _Harley_. You're a fucking toddler I have to babysit when _he_ decides he's bored with you." That's actually a _very_ apt description, maybe I should have asked ring-worm around the rosy to write my bio for the faculty page. Harley- _ha,_ she looks less impressed.

Actually she looks like she's been _paused_ , I'm not actually sure she's breathing and Pammy _ooooh_ \- Pammy looks _nervous_.

"Why do you try so hard?" Her voice is quieter than I thought it would be, but its fucking _lifeless_ and _cold_ , and I'm almost proud- or at least I will be if she pulls off the bit she's got going. _Almost_ proud, that is.

"What are you talking about?"

"Why do you _try_ so hard to take care of me _, miss Isley?_ I'm calling you that because apparently, _we're not friends_. And you know what? If I'm really that much of a burden but you just keep me around, _lying_ to my _face_ then I don't want to be your friend. I don't like wasting my time on _backstabbing_ _bitches_."

Ivy backhands Harley immediately, like its and instinct, and my girl lets out an indignant squawk before she _slaps her right back_. Then, to top it off, she grabs a nice _handful_ of that _backstabber's_ hair- I'd be willing to bet that there's a fair number of _unsavory_ little _films_ on the internet that start a lot like this. But jokes aside, I'm going to be _really_ disappointed if Harley cheats on me twice in one night- what, do I have _cuck-hold_ tattooed on my forehead or something? Oopsies, She's talking again _\- I'm missing the show!_

Now back to our regularly scheduled programming:

"…can't _believe_ this, after all the time we've spent together- I thought you were having _fun_ , but apparently I'm a fucking punishment for you!"

" _Harley_ -"

" _No!_ Let me _talk!_ Why do you _let_ me stay in your apartment, why do you _force_ me to drink disgusting smoothies, why the _fuck did you make me go on this date?_ Cause I don't do that shit with people I don't like, Ivy!"

" _OK!_ I'm _sorry-_ " _Sigh. Kumbaya, apparently_ \- how anti-climactic. "I was angry- I take back what I said about you being work, you're my _best friend."_ For some reason, Ginger O'Keefe finds it necessary to _touch_ Harley's face- but Harley swats it away. "You were right, Ok? I _was_ being a bitch- but I am _not_ going to apologize for what I tried to do tonight. I pushed you to go out because I want you to get better! If you had _just_ given Devin a chance, it might have worked out! Maybe you would have learned that it can be _better_ than it is with _him_ -"

" _HA!_ "

 _Well folks, I guess the jig is up_


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Note:** This is the ficlet finale, my pretties! I hope you've enjoyed this little side story- it was super fun to write, so I might do some more of these in the future. Let me know what you think!

Also, really sorry, I totally thought I had posted this yesterday, but then I checked today and apparently not! I'm silly.

Anyways, read on!

 **Harley- May 6** **th** **, 9:49pm**

At first I think I've just tumbled into a full psychotic episode- there's _no_ way that sound is coming out of _Devin._ But then Devin isn't Devin anymore, he's pulling off a _wig,_ and the hair underneath is _green,_ and- _Oh_ _my_ _God!_

" _PUDDIN!_ " I'm on him before I realize what I'm doing, and then I'm _touching_ him, after _three_ _horrible_ months I can _touch_ him. I'm kissing him on the nose, the cheeks, maybe accidentally a _little_ bit on the eyeball- he's _trying_ to push me away but it's ok because he's _here_ and I can _touch_ him. Because I didn't cheat at all, it was him, _he_ was what revved me up about Devin _godamn_ Delguissi! He's peeling bits of prosthetic latex from his nose and chin, revealing the hidden scars that gouge his cheeks.

 ** _"_** _Oh,_ Mistah _J!_ I can't believe you did all this for me!"

"I didn't- _what?"_ His voice pitches up at least three octaves on the question and he plants a hand on my face to push me away. So I take the hand and I hold it. "Stop that!" He shakes his arm vigorously in attempt to dislodge me, but I hold fast. He looks like he's about to contest that, but then he catches Ivy staring at our joined hands like she wishes she had laser eyes instead of the plant thing, and he drops his resistance, chuckling.

"Just kidding!" He wraps his free arm around my waist and pulls me back onto his lap. I melt, and Ivy grumbles in the background. "Of _course_ I did this for you-" His hand comes to my jaw and he tilts my face up so all I can see is _him._ "Daddy needed to show you that he's the _only_ one. Do you _understand_ , cupcake?"

" _Yes_ , Daddy I'm _so_ _sorry_ -"

"Whatever is going _on_ here needs to happen _somewhere else_." Growls Ivy, and before I can respond J is _kissing_ _me_.

 _Oh my_ god _he's_ kissing _me!_

Distantly, I know that Ivy is probably passing vicious and nearing rabid- her plan backfired completely; she spent two months "talking" (I assume it was more like an interrogation) to Mister J, and she _still_ _picked him_. For me! _Suck it Pammy, I'm not the only one who thinks we're soulmates_ \- I would say that to her but my mouth is busy. And _yeah_ I know he's only making out with me cause its pissing her off, but _I_ ain't gonna complain- he feels _so_ good after so _long,_ and somehow its like everything is new even though its familiar to the _core_. One of his hands grips my neck while the other presses against the small of my back and he plays my body like a cello, his mouth travelling across my jaw and down my neck- presumably so he can glare at Ivy but _oh my god_ , I _needed_ this-

"Get the _fuck_ out of my house."

He pulls away with a sigh, leaving me dizzy, breathless, and possibly drooling

"That's _really_ no way to treat a guest, Pam-"

" _No_ \- _you_ \- just _shut up_ and get out of my sight or I _swear_ I will skin you alive and turn you into a fucking _coat_."

"Wow-" He pushes me off his lap and stands to full height with no Delguissi-slouch. "As _flattering_ as that is I'm going to have to decline, and I think you _might_ want to reconsider as well-"

"Don't you _dare_ tell me what to do." Snaps Ivy, entirely focused on him as I get to my feet- I have a _really_ bad feeling about this. They can't fight head on; they're both… _too_ _much_.

"Oh goodness, I would _never-"_ J presses a hand to his chest, feigning shock. "I wasn't giving you an _order_ , I never give orders, do I Harls?" I shake my head no and Pammy's eye twitches. "I just wanted to _inform_ you that I've got an incendiary grenade somewhere on my person and I'd _hate_ for it to go off during my flaying- that really _would_ be tragic, wouldn't it?" He snatches the bamboo off the table and Pam's eyes go to pinpricks. "This lovely…cactus? I don't know- is this a _tree_? Whatever- either way I doubt it it's a fan of napalm!" He chuckles.

"You're bluffing," She spits, her tone near acid. "there's _no_ way you have space for one of those in that abomination of a jacket."

"Oh of course not, it would _ruin_ the lines!" He strokes the ill-fitting tweed- now that I think about it, I'm almost entirely sure he had _tailored_ that way. "Good thing pockets aren't the dapper man's _only_ hidee-hole..." He tweaks a brow in the following horrified silence. I'd like to say I'm sure that he's lying, but he's spent an ab _surd_ amount of time in prison, and holy fuck if he _isn't_ lying, _I'm_ going to kill him- throwing yourself off a building is one thing but _this_?

"You can't be serious." Ivy looks like she might vomit.

"I do admit," He chuckles. "Seriousness is a challenge for _me.._. but are you going to bet your _babies_ on it?" Her face hardens immediately and I think she's about to throw caution to the wind, but then her eyes dart down to the bamboo in Puddin's hands and she closes her eyes to take a long breath.

" _Just_ _leave_. "

J cracks a grin and at this point I kind of want to push him out the door because she could still decide to end him and I don't see why we need to _test_ that. But also I'm just antsy to get home with him because it's been _months,_ and even though I thought he was _Devin_ he did some _really_ _good_ things in that alley, like REALLY good.

"Was that a _pun_?" He's giggling now, and I should really have just dragged him out when I got the idea in the first place because the wisteria is _dancing_ again, and the bamboo is starting to _jitter_ -

" _Get_ OUT!" The vines lash forward like fifty woody cat-o-nine's, stopping just short of a strike. She's obviously still not sure about the grenade that _might_ be up my boyfriend's ass, but that's not a guarantee of safety and _he's_ just grinning like an _idiot,_ so I decide to take action.

"Ok!" I grab handfuls of his jacket, and I give a tug toward the door. "Lets go Mistah J, you hungry?" He gives an inch at first but he goes stock-still when I start talking and he swats my hands away before I can finish.

" _Why am I not surprised._ " This statement seems self-directed, but the next is clearly addressed to me. "I was _lying_ when I said I did this for you." _Well that hurts, but it's not exactly a shocker_. "Do you _understand,_ cupcake?" He mocks the sweet tone he used earlier. "I don't _want_ you- you _cheated_ on me."

Oh my god. I'm gonna _fucking k-_

"You dumped me!" I screech, outrage shredding my filter.

 _"_ _That's not how this works and you know it."_ He snaps. "You're staying with the plant."

"No she's _not_!" Ivy's declaration has me spinning to face her- she's got her arms crossed and a haughty tilt to her chin as she stares me down.

"What the _hell_ , Red?" I sound more exasperated than outraged this time, but she shakes her head at me.

"Harley- it's not that you're _work,_ its just that I spent months trying to get you back up on your feet, and as _soon_ as I did, _he_ showed up to knock you right down again. So I'm _tired_ , ok?" She shrugs, like _that_ wasn't incredibly insulting. I'm about to tell her so when J interjects.

"Are you trying to imply that you had _fixed_ her somehow?" He's grinning, jabbing his thumb in my direction. "Have you _seen_ her?"

"Both of you SHUT UP!" It takes me a second of stunned silence to realize that _I_ said that, and a little thrill of fear runs down my spine.

"EX- _cuse_ me?" Gasps J, _actually_ looking shocked for once- I barely manage to suppress my grin.

"Oh, _YOU_ have _no right_ to be excused for ANYTHING!" Ivy snarls, rounding on him with him, and something awful bursts in my chest. I don't feel in control of myself at _all_ \- this writhing mass of frustration, heartache, and longing takes the wheel, and I think it's trying to run me off a cliff.

" _You-_ " I shout, whirling back on Ivy "this whole night is _your_ freakin' fault! _You_ started this, and then _you_ picked him. You are _literally_ the only person you can blame!" Her mouth pops open but I'm not about to let her argue, I ain't done yet- I could write a goddamn book about all the ways she's fucked up tonight."An' stop treating me like a _chore_ , its rude!" Her mouth drops open again but this time its a bit more like shock, and that fills me with _joy_.

J laughs behind me, and I ignore the building fury on Ivy's face to turn on him.

"And _you_ -" I stomp over and I _grab_ him by the _stupid freakin' bowtie,_ cause why not tempt fate? I'm on a _roll_ here. "How the _HELL_ was I cheating? It was YOU!" He grabs my wrists and twist them to make me let go but I am _not_ letting him shut me up- " _YOU_ made up Devin Delguissi, and YOU spent _months_ COURTING _Ivy_ for my hand in whatever the _hell_ this is, and now you wanna' pretend you don't give a shit about me?" He refuses to budge his grin- _god forbid he make my outburst satisfying._

'' _Well_ ," He slides into a contemplative posture and his tone is irritatingly casual; he's obviously _trying_ to provoke me now, and my nails dig into my palms. "I'm not sure ' _pretend'_ is the right word-" He taps his chin like an _ass_.

"How many times has Lou made a doo-doo on your pillow?" It's the first thing that come out of my mouth, and I know it's kind of a funny thing to say in such an accusatory way, but its _honestly_ not a ridiculous question. He scowls deeply, crossing his arms- _t_ _hats right, Mr. Man, my babies don't like it when I'm gone,_ do _they?_

"… _Seven_ , but I don't see what that has to do with your infidelity." He grumbles, glaring down at me over his pointy nose.

I match his glare right back- he can play dumb all he wants but I _know_ what he's like when I'm not around. Maybe he doesn't mourn me like I mourn him, he still feels the loss; he just _shows_ it different. He doesn't get sad or grumpy- last time he had a burst of productivity right after we broke up, but then he sort of dropped off the map for a bit. At _first_ I thought that was because he laying low, and he _was_ \- but he was also a _mess_.

He still _looked_ put together (except for the socks) but he'd lost at least three pounds because he forgets to eat, and he was _spectacularly_ irritable. Thats right ladies and gents, I have a _calming_ influence on him- at least in the long term. When I'm gone, all the little things fall to shit, and those little things pile up until he _has_ to deal with them. Understandably that riles him up because suddenly he can't find anything, the babies shred his clothing and shit on his bed, and just to make it all a little worse he obviously goes into a state of semi-starvation, which is more than enough to make _anyone_ grumpy.

He wouldn't say it in a million years but he's gotten used to relying on me for certain needs- _unfortunately_ those needs aren't as sexual as I might like, but I think he's developed some sort of appetite for that too. It may not be a _normal_ appetite, but since when is anything about him normal?

I _know_ him, and I _love_ him, but I am _not_ letting him pull this shit today.

"Have you started buying new suits yet?" I assume a casual pose of my own, arching my brows and resting my weight on one foot. I want to _scream_ at him, but I force myself to ask it like the interest is innocent and his grimace deepens.

" _What!"_ he throws his hands up. "I can't _treat_ myself now? _" Deflecting again._

"Is it because your favourite ones are dirty or torn?" He purses his lips, and that mean's I've _hit_ something- why the hell would I stop shooting? "Or are they just _lost_ because everything's a _mess?_ " No sooner have the words left my mouth than he yanks me forward by the collar of my dress.

"I _THRIVE_ IN A MESS!" He roars this like he doesn't _lose his shit_ every time he can't find something, and I don't really have any choice but to lose _my_ shit right back. So I crouch down to yank up the legs of his trousers.

"YOU CAN'T EVEN MATCH YOUR _SOCKS_!" I point at the offending ankles, which are sporting lime green dinosaurs on the left, and hot pink smileys on the right. He scoffs, kicking me off his leg, and rolling his eyes- _me thinks she doth protest too much._

"That was an aesthetic choice, you _INGRATE_!" He spits, turning his nose up, and is he _really_ going to keep pretending that he's ok with all of that just to _spite_ me? _YES!_ YES HE IS!

"Y'know what? _FINE_." Blood is pounding in my ears and the corners of my vision are falling to a red haze. I have no idea what I'm about to say when I open my mouth, but I know i'm going to regret it- "If you don't let me go _home_ , I'm gonna fucking _fist you dry_ and pull the tab on that FREAKIN' grenade _myself_!"

 _Oh,_ that was _so_ much worse than I could have imagined. At least _Ivy_ enjoyed it- she's trying ardently not to laugh. _He_ doesn't seem to know _how_ to look for once- but it only lasts a second before he giggles, and a grin splits his face.

"…Is it just me or is she _really_ hot right now?" He quirks an eyebrow at Pam, and she promptly slaps him across the face with a nearby aloe. He _cackles_ in response, which is, as usual, not a very diplomatic move.

" _GET OUT!"_ She roars, and this time when the vines whip forward they weave themselves into a wall.

I don't have time to think about how _cool_ that is before its shoving me back and I narrowly avoid a tumble, scrambling for the door after J, who tosses the bamboo over his shoulder on the way out. I dodge the projectile plant, and a stray vine lasso's it, pulling it to safety before lashing out again. I slam the door closed just in time to avoid a sizeable welt. I don't know what I'm expecting to see when I turn to my infuriating other half, but I didn't expect _scrutiny-_ He stands with his arms crossed and his head to the side, eyes narrowed as they flit over my facial features.

"You look awful." He says.

"I _feel_ awful."

There's a twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"What _would_ you have done- if the plant let you go to bed like you wanted?"

"I woulda' cried for a _real_ long time. But I woulda been waiting for Pammy to go to sleep so I could sneak out and find you." He brings his hand up slowly to prop it on the door behind me, blocking out the yellowed light from the hallway bulbs.

"And what would you have done if you _had_ found me?" His voice is black and slick like oil, and it coats my skin, making me shiver.

"I'd a' brought you a gun." I'm not sure if those are my words or if he drew them out of me somehow. As if to confirm the suspicion he inhales, and then next bit tumbles out of my mouth.

"And a knife."

"…Mhm?"

 _Oh this is good, this is very good._ My hands are starting to shake so I clasp them behind my back, feeling like I can't quite fill my lungs.

"I Woulda' set em down at your feet," I'm leaning forward, I can't help it. "and I woulda' told you _everything_ I did." He quirks an eyebrow, wordlessly questioning my honesty, and I know I _really_ have to give it.

"I _knew_ it was wrong an' I went anyways." That's _true,_ and the guilt roars up again to squeeze my throat. "When I looked at him I wanted to _vomit_ cause he was like snippets of you all sewn together with cheap _thread_ , but part of me _wanted_ him, cause I thought maybe if I squinted my eyes or got _really_ drunk he could be _you_ for a while-" I run out of breathe and the next one that fills my lungs is rushed. "Then I could _forget_ for a few seconds…" My eyes sting so I squeeze them shut, and he knots his finger into my hair, pulling to turn my face up for a better look.

His attention stokes a heat in my belly even as it twists.

"I'd tell ya' how much I _hated_ myself for that, how I wanted to step into traffic when he was walkin' me home. An' then in that alley I made the _biggest_ mistake of my life. I'd wanna' ask for forgiveness, _oh god_ , I'd want to _beg_ for it-" His grip on my hair tightens. "but I know I wouldn't _deserve_ it. So as much as it would _kill_ me, I wouldn't ask you to absolve me. I'd wait for punishment, and I'd _take_ it." The silence is jarring after the sound of my ragged voice, and suddenly my breath is way too loud. He doesn't move, just stands there with his fingers digging into the back of my neck, pupils like saucers.

I know that look.

I _love_ that look- you could even say that it's my _favourite_ look _,_ and sure, maybe I don't get to see it so often but you better believe I pay attention when I do. That look is a window of opportunity, a very small window that could snap shut at any moment, so if you think you see it, you have to move on it.

"If I _had_ done that," I cross every finger and every toe, I wish on a thousand stars and eyelashes- "what would _you_ do?"

There's another second of silence but he cuts this one with howling laughter as he throws me over his shoulder, knocking a torrent of giggles from me as he races down the hall to the stairwell.

 _Well, I guess its no more Mr. Nice Guy._


End file.
